Tucked Away
by Lokaia
Summary: BovaHarlan, Bova's POV. Another one of those little whims of mine, gone wrong. Perhaps even more chapters if anyone would like.
1. Tucked Away

Title:: Tucked Away  
  
Author:: Lokaia  
  
Rating:: R for (possible) later chapters, but PG-13 for this one.  
  
Summary:: Well... it's the product of a whim gone wrong. Like most things I've done lately. Bova/Harlan slash, Bova POV, somewhat angsty because I'm a big angsty whore ^_^!  
  
Disclaimer:: They weren't mine yesterday, aren't mine today, won't be tomorrow. I'll let you know about next week. 'Tucked Away' belongs to the Goo Goo Dolls.  
  
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So here's the deal.  
  
Harlan Band. And me. Doing stuff the Commander and Ms. Davenport won't admit, but everyone knows it's happening anyway. I.E. denial in the ranks.  
  
He started it.  
  
True, there's little to no choice on this ship, but I'm still pretty surprised he decided to go for me. I guess it's because he knows I'll never ask anything of him. Radu might. Or might just need him to do things. Suzee would demand him to be at her beck and call. Rosie...  
  
Well, I mentioned Rosie to him once, and all he did was shudder. Whether it's toward the Mercurian herself, or the thought of getting his flesh scorched off, I'm not sure.  
  
Well, he got me. He knows he can end it, and I'll go away. I keep waiting for him to say the word. It'll be fine, I'll be out of there. But for now...  
  
For now it's a fairly decent distraction.  
  
By "fairly decent" I mean "best experience of my life".  
  
And, no, that's not optimism. That's simple fact. I happen to be a very factual person, not just pessimistic.  
  
It's definitely weird. It's like he's trying to look after me sometimes. I mean, he did before, but that was when he was the "leader" of our group and was helping us to basically save his own ass. Now it's like...  
  
He cares.  
  
Weird.  
  
How it started is kind of confusing. I think there was alcohol. Or maybe drugs. Something. All I really remember is waking up, cramped and sore, crumpled in a heap in a storage closet with a very large Earther wrapped around me. I was surprised, yeah, but didn't freak. What surprised me more was that he didn't either.  
  
Guess he's been drunk before.  
  
After that he'd started leaving me hints which I blatantly ignored. Seemed to kind of piss him off and he started yelling at me for not "taking this seriously". Whatever "this" was, I still can't tell you, but I was apparently not being fair to it. Once he stopped babbling I asked if he'd ever considering just *asking* me straight out. I used a Thelma analogy in there somewhere--ask and you'll get a straight answer.  
  
Guess he hadn't thought of that before.  
  
Me? I thought it was painfully obvious. But maybe that's just because I'm on a close personal relationship with myself.  
  
That Harlan apparently wanted in on.  
  
That was fine. I could deal with that. It was something to do when we were bored, or needed to get away from homework or just the pressures of, "Oh yeah! We're stuck in the middle of nowhere!" Suzee thought it was hilarious, but honestly, I didn't get why it was any more funny than the thought of Harlan and Suzee. In any case, she started after Radu, who suddenly became very interested in heightening his psionic abilities.  
  
Ooh. Shocker.  
  
So fine. I can deal with whatever it is Harlan and I have. I can deal with the fact that if Cat ever gets back, he'll go to her, or once we get back to the Starcademy, he'll find someone else. All that I can deal with.  
  
Know what I can't deal with?  
  
I'm sweaty and gross and panting like my life depends on it, about a hundred and seventy pounds of sweaty, gross, panting Earther on top of me, and I'm drifting off to sleep. He's mumbling something into my ear, but you know what? It's been a long day and this is a pretty exhausting way to end it, so I don't really pay attention to what he's saying.  
  
*Wait. Did he just...*  
  
My neck twists painfully when I jerk my chin to stare at him. "Harlan!"  
  
He doesn't move.  
  
I shove him. "Harlan!"  
  
No signs of life.  
  
I'm prepared for this. The guy forgets how much bigger he is than me sometimes--I need something to keep me from getting crushed when he forgets I'm his bedmate, not his *pillow*, and squeezes a little harder than he should.  
  
Ah yes. A feather.  
  
Thelma gave it to me saying it'd be useful. Yeah, no kidding. This little thing has saved my ribs countless times.  
  
I'm about to wake him up with it. But...  
  
What if he wakes up and he didn't mean it?  
  
Even worse...  
  
What if he wakes up and he did?  
  
"Love you."  
  
The hell... how do you respond to that? 


	2. All Figured Out

Title:: All Figured Out  
  
Author:: Lokaia  
  
Rating::R  
  
Summary:: Check it OOOOOOOUt! Chapter 2 on a fic I'VE written! oooooooooh, wonder!  
  
Disclaimer:: See Ch. 1  
  
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I've been avoiding him.  
  
Not that anyone can tell, because I never go to him anyway. He always approaches me. But I've been finding ways to get out of...well, everything with him.  
  
What would *you* do?  
  
The bastard said he loved me. There are two possible reasons for this. One is that he was hopped up on post-coital pheromones.  
  
The other is that he meant it. I'm going to go ahead and think it's the first one. It's hard to think even Harlan could be dumb enough to mean it.  
  
So by "avoiding him" I actually mean just not reacting to whatever he does.  
  
Example?  
  
He walked into the team room and by the look on his face, I *knew* the Commander had just given him a hard time. When Harlan gets distracted, he gets *distracted*. So it's not really all that surprising when he gets in trouble.  
  
But it is annoying to see that look on his face, especially when you know he doesn't do it on purpose.  
  
I watched him through half-closed eyes. Eyes that were supposed to be focused on my homework, and were up until now. 'Up until now' because he was walking straight towards me, with every intention of plopping down onto the couch beside me.  
  
"What's with you?" I demanded when he was about a foot away.  
  
"*Grrh*." He did sit next to me. The way he usually does. Throwing an arm around my shoulders first, then pulling my head to his chest, and throwing his other arm around to my waist, basically pulling me onto his lap.  
  
I shrugged out of his grasp. "'Leggo' of me," I grumbled, sliding back to my side of the couch. "I have homework."  
  
It was *not* the most inconspicuous thing to do. Usually, when I know he's had a bad day, I go along with whatever he wants. So by now, he knew there was a problem.  
  
He didn't get around to it right away, though, because that would make too much sense.  
  
He watched me while I attempted to look at my homework. After a few seconds, I turned and glared at him. "You're distracting me."  
  
"What's wrong with you?" he asked. I didn't say anything and he draped an arm across the back of the couch, looking at me with an expression I couldn't name. "Why are you acting like this lately?"  
  
"Like what?" I grumbled.  
  
He frowned. "Like ignoring me. Not talking to me unless you have to. Not touching me *at all*. What's the matter?"  
  
"Maybe I'm stressed because I can't finished my *homework*," I grumbled.  
  
His eyes narrowed in confusion. "Why won't you just tell me? You've been like this for weeks."  
  
I kept my eyes on my compupad. "I haven't been like *anything* for weeks."  
  
"Yes, you have." Now he was getting annoyed. "Don't deny it, Bova, maybe you have the others fooled, but not me. What's *wrong* with you?"  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
"No, *fuck you*!" My head jerked up to stare at him in surprise. No matter what expletives I yell at Harlan, he almost never swears at me. But he was glaring at me, face flushed and angry. "You think you can patronize me like this? When the person I'm with won't touch, or talk, or even *look* at me, I want to know *why*!" He had grabbed my shoulders, practically shaking me in anger. "I get the fact that you won't initiate anything with me--I get that. I understand *every single one* of your little rules you set at the beginning of this. But you will fucking talk to me, if it's the last thing *you* do! When you ignore me for a full *three* weeks for no reason at all--"  
  
He stopped, eyes so wide more white than brown showed.  
  
Know what I've never experienced before? Speechlessness. That's a new one for me. By the time my voice finally said, "Oh, sorry, I was just getting something to eat", all I could say was,   
  
"Harlan. You're hurting me."  
  
He didn't let go, but he did loosen his grip.  
  
"You heard me."  
  
"What?" I was still in shock from what his first speech, I didn't entirely understand what he was saying.  
  
"You did." He was still staring at me like he'd never seen me before. "You heard me."  
  
My brain finally registered what he said. That's when I experienced another new feeling--fear. You'd think I'd have had plenty of that on the Christa, but no. On the Christa I feel like I'm correct, almost like a Seer compared to the rest of these people. But fear? No, that's pretty new too.  
  
"I... what?" Speechlessness again.  
  
"You did. You heard me say it. You heard me say I..." He stopped, whether it was from the expression on my face or his own thoughts, I still don't know. But he finally let go of me. He looked away for a second, not really looking at anything, and ran a hand over his dredlocks. "I didn't remember... not until the next morning and you... you were ignoring me then. I couldn't talk about it. But you never said anything, so... I thought you didn't know I'd said it. But if you *did* hear it, why *didn't* you say anything? And if you didn't..." He trailed off and looked at me again.  
  
I swallowed hard. "You didn't mean it."  
  
"What?" He was so confused, it would have been comical. *If* he didn't also seem kind of pissed.  
  
"You didn't mean it." I felt a little more in-control now. "You hardly even know me. Just because there's an occasional screw between us doesn't mean you actually know anything about me--"  
  
"Oh, you're *right*, Bova," he snapped and *oh yeah* he was pissed now. "I don't know anything about you at all, because you're just *so* fucking dark, no one knows anything about you. And no one could ever figure out anything about you because you're just *so* *fucking* *dark*."  
  
"Look, just because--"  
  
"No. You. Look." He stood so that he was towering over me, shaking with anger. "You're going to tell me what I think and what I mean? Bull shit. You think you know what I feel?"  
  
It took me a second to understand he actually wanted me to answer. Much less in control now. But I *could* answer this question.  
  
"Yeah, Harlan. I do."  
  
And in that one second, all the emotion left his face. He just stared down at me and slowly his hands unclenched and he took a step back. "All right. Fine." He turned and walked toward the door.  
  
"Where are you going?" I asked the question with what I recognized as a desperation. Can we say *more* new emotions? I *hate* new emotions.  
  
"Now you care?" His reply was biting, cold, and he didn't even turn around. He stalked out the door, leaving me alone on the couch.  
  
"....Yes."  
  
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(A/N:: I had to edit this a few times because they were swearing too much. ^_^ that's some of my influence there. 3 to DaChan because she is my beta-whore and more to Teki who influenced just how dark Bova is.  
  
Chapter 3?) 


	3. White Flag

Title:: White Flag  
  
Author:: Lokaia  
  
Rating:: PG-13 for swearing  
  
Summary:: Awwwwww. *smacks herself*  
  
Disclaimer:: See Chapter One  
  
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What do I do?  
  
It's the scariest thing I've ever experienced--being unsure of what to do to fix something. I mean, I've had things I didn't know how to fix before. I just always knew beforehand it would break, so I wasn't really worried about it.  
  
I didn't know this could break.  
  
I didn't know I didn't *want* this to break.  
  
So I can stand at my station and watch him at helm and be as obvious as I want about it, because he's not looking my way and everyone else has already gotten the gist of what happened. But no matter how long I look at him, I still don't know what to do. Believe me.  
  
But I know there has to be some sort of conspiracy going on when Commander Goddard assigns us both Command Post duty at the same time. It's a small ship and an even smaller crew. There's no *way* he'd do it on accident.  
  
So I can stand at my station and watch him at helm and be as obvious as I want about it, because we're the only ones in the room. But he still hasn't looked back at me.  
  
I'm sorry I said it.  
  
Whatever it was that really got to him, I'm sorry I said it. If I knew what it was, I'd take it back, but I don't know. All that I said was true. At least, in my eyes it was.  
  
He hadn't meant it. We'd been doing... I don't know--stuff, each other, whatever--for nearly six months. We'd talked by ourselves before. I'd told him things I wouldn't consider telling other people, and he had said I was the first to know some things about him.  
  
But he was lying, right?  
  
I wasn't. I told him about Uranusian culture and how stupid it is and how ridiculous I feel celebrating holidays that celebrate the dead (or more accurately, *envy* them) and fighting with other people to take the blame because you're required to *know* it's your fault...  
  
He hadn't meant it. But if *I* said it... right now... to him... would I mean it?  
  
I let out a breath and Harlan twitches like he was going to turn around before he checked himself. And I'm disappointed.  
  
Oh, *look*. *More* new emotions.  
  
Well, that's just great. So now it's not just "What do I do?" it's "Do I lo"...  
  
I can't even *think* it, how am I supposed to say it?  
  
*Should* I say it?  
  
I think it's true--I don't know, though, so I'm probably wrong and I'll realize it as soon as I tell him. That'd be great. *Great*.  
  
"I don't hate you."  
  
I could smack myself. *Internal* thoughts, Bova, *internal*. But at least he's turned around. At least he's looking at me.  
  
His eyebrows are knotted in confusion. "Of course you don't."  
  
I shake my head for a couple of reasons--to clear my head, to get my hair out of my face, and pretty much just for effect. "No, I mean... I don't *hate* you."  
  
He smiles then. Not his big, goofy, egotistical smile, but a real one. "Are you apologizing?"  
  
I frown. "Well... I don't know. Maybe. I don't think I was wrong," I say quickly. "But... well, maybe I was out of line. A couple of times."  
  
Harlan takes a hesitant step forward. When I don't protest, he comes closer, leaning against my console. "Yeah, well... I was, too. Sorry I swore at you."  
  
"Okay."  
  
He laughs a little at that. I hate how he thinks apathy is funny.  
  
"So... when you say you don't *hate* me...." He meets my eyes and another new emotion sneaks up on me and says "BOO!". Pity. He seems afraid of my answer. Like it'll change his life. Maybe it will.  
  
It'll sure as hell change mine.  
  
"I..." I have no idea if I can actually get this out. "I...uh..." Thinking that's a 'no' right now. "I don't hate you." His expression drops, disappointed I guess and I quickly say, "No, I mean I *really* don't hate you! *Really*."  
  
He meets my eyes again. "Really?" I nod and his smile, his real smile, is back. "You can't say it, can you?"  
  
"*Please* don't make me." It's not a plea or a request, I'm glaring at him and he's grinning.  
  
"I won't. You don't have to say it. I know what you mean." He looks at me for a moment longer then moves to stand in front of me, pulling me into his arms.  
  
And before I can stop myself, a side of me I'd very much like to murder, sighs contentedly. My head is rubbing into the fabric of his jacket, my arms around his waist.  
  
Traitor. My whole body is a traitor.  
  
He's laughing softly, at my reactions or just because I won't say it. I'm not sure. But he's doing it and he decides that's just not cute enough. So he kisses the top of my head.  
  
Cute, sappy, bastard.  
  
I didn't know what to do, but I guess I did it.  
  
So I can stand at my station and watch him at helm and be as obvious as I want about it, because he's mine. And until further notice, I'm his.  
  
This is me. I surrender. Like General Anselmo in that battle where he finally just threw up his hands and yelled, "What's the point? We're not going to win anyway!"  
  
Or maybe not exactly like that. I'm surrendering, yeah. But I still win.  
  
Go me. 


End file.
